Closure
by Bratette
Summary: She's nineteen when it happens. The day doesn't seem different than any other, even though it should. There should be some type of warning, at least, but there isn't. One-shot


**A/N:** **I don't think I've ever written anything this sad... it was fun in a morbid kind of way. **

**This is my first time writing in present tense. This story really needed it and works best with it, so I hope the change doesn't bother anyone.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.  
**

* * *

_She's nineteen when it happens._

The day doesn't seem different than any other, even though it should. There should be some type of warning, at least, but there isn't. Instead she's at Eleanor's brand new home, waiting for her to finish making their drinks to celebrate the new apartment, when the phone rings.

Her sister hands her a glass and asks if she can get it. She does, and doesn't stop to consider that this phone-call could change everything, because really, who _does_ that? You don't know when these things are going to happen, you never really know until it just _happens._

She picks the phone up and is met with a sobbing, barely intelligible Jeanette on the other line.

She tries to get her to calm down so she can understand what she's saying. Eventually she manages to make out the words _"Miss Miller"_ and _"heart attack"_ and the glass in her hand drops to the floor, shattering everywhere.

* * *

_Planning the funeral might be the worst part._

It's what really wakes her up, what makes her realize this is happening and Miss Miller is not ever going to come back.

One second Eleanor is talking about how much the coffin will cost, the next she's crying, and Jeanette quickly joins her.

She comforts her sisters and for a split second she feels like she's eight years old again, on the streets, taking care of her little sisters because there's no one else that will. Then the feeling is gone and she cries with them, wanting nothing more than the only mother figure she's ever had to hold her.

* * *

_The actual funeral itself is much worse than planning it was._

Rain falls down outside and she can't help but think that it's the perfect weather for a day like this. People are crying, telling her they're sorry, that Beatrice Miller was a wonderful woman and she will be missed.

She knows they mean well, but she feels bitter about it. So many people are there, people she doesn't even know, telling her about her mother. She doesn't _need_ them to tell her things about her. She _knows_ Miss Miller, much better than they ever will.

She does a pretty good job at holding it together until she actually has to walk up and look at the coffin. She goes back to her seat beside Alvin and lets herself forget about her pride while she cries into his shoulder and he rubs her arm.

When everyone starts to get ready for the burial, she decides she's ready to go home and leaves. She doesn't care what anyone thinks of it. She doesn't want to see Miss Miller put into the ground. She can't.

* * *

_She's been dreading Mother's Day._

It comes anyway.

Her sisters plan to go to the grave with flowers. They ask if she wants to come. She says no.

It would hurt too much.

* * *

_Things only get harder as the years go by.  
_

She's able to put it behind her, to mostly push her grief as far away as possible in an attempt to move on.

Of course, every now and then something will make her think of Miss Miller and her heart will feel like it's breaking all over again. The pain in her chest sometimes feels so heavy that she thinks she might burst, and then it's gone, and she makes herself believe she's okay again.

* * *

_Dress shopping isn't as fun as she always dreamed it would be.  
_

Her sisters are freaking out with her as she tries on dozens upon dozens of white dresses, trying in vain to find the _perfect_ one. She's going to be Mrs. Seville soon.

She takes a moment to stare at the engagement ring on her finger. She wishes Miss Miller could be there with them, fretting over dresses, picking out the most ugliest and out of fashion dresses in the store.

She wishes the one person she truly needs on her wedding day could be there for her.

* * *

_She's happier than she's ever been and has a family now._

That doesn't stop Miss Miller from crossing her mind. It doesn't mean things hurt any less.

She's changing one of her twin boys when Eleanor says something that makes her throat tighten.

"Miss Miller would have spoiled them," her sister says, poking Al. Jr on the nose as he giggles.

She can only nod. Miss Miller had always wanted grandchildren.

* * *

_She finally decides to visit the grave. _

She tells everyone she wants to go by herself because that's how she thinks it should be. She's nervous and scared and would rather be anywhere else but where she is, but she won't let herself back out of it. It's been avoided for too long.

She sits down by the grave and just looks at it for a few moments. She thinks about how much she misses Miller Miller, how she'll _never_ stop missing her. She lets herself sit and think and cry. She's glad she went alone.

When she stands to leave, she thinks about how much she loves Miss Miller and always will.

She feels, for once, closure.


End file.
